Return to Rapture
by Penny Dreadful
Summary: The sequel to BioShock. I've redone the story and broken it up into chapters, since it was not letting people know when I updated.
1. Chapter 1

_March 12, 1962-_

_San Francisco Chronicle_

_In an announcement that both baffled and shocked press, Jack Ryan, the sole owner of the city-state Rapture, refused to allow diving crews to visit the undersea metropolis. When questioned about the decision, Ryan stated that "[t]he city is unsafe and has suffered a cataclysmic natural disaster. I only barely managed to escape with a handful of citizens. The rest of the populace is dead, and the city is now completely flooded and uninhabitable." _

_Several private investors expressed their desire to buy the salvage rights to Rapture, but again Ryan refused. "The city is dangerous," he told the Chronicle on Monday. "And waivers or no, I don't want to be responsible for anyone else dying down there."_

_Because Rapture was built in international waters, there can be no writ to force Ryan to allow salvage teams or even government officials into the city for an inquest. The mystery of the famed city beneath the waves will remain solely in Jack Ryan's keeping._

~*~

June 5, 1980

Pasadena, California

"_...more than fifteen years. The team is expected to launch next week, with famous diver Henri Court leading the expedition. There are still no reports of whether this will be a simple survey or..."_

"Joany, c'mere." Paulette's eyes were riveted on the living room TV as she called back into the other woman's bedroom. "Check it out."

From her room, Joan coughed lightly and moved to the doorway to stand and look over her roommate's shoulder. She had a toothbrush clutched in a slender hand, and the other held the doorframe lightly. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's Jack," Paulette replied quietly.

Joan silently exited the bedroom and moved around the corner of the couch, taking a seat on its end beside Paulette. They both sat in silence, looking at a wharf, a bubble-blonde pattering into a microphone, and a subtitle that bore only two words:

'Rapture Revisited'

"Oh, my God," exhaled Joan.

Without having to be told, Paulette leaned and picked up the phone to hand to Joan.

~*~

In Beacon Hill, Bridgette Tenenbaum slowly closed the door to the study, and turned to regard the man who sat with his head in his hands. She may have looked less than a decade older than Jack Ryan, but few knew she was almost thirty years his senior. The appearance made the actions of the truth a little strange. She came and rested a lined hand on his shoulder, her voice soft and resonant, the intrusion of her German accent only making her seem older. "They were always greedy buzzards," was her derisive comment, "but you had to tell the press sooner or later, Jack."

The man lifted his head, his face careworn and bleak in expression. "I know," he murmured. "I just wish I'd never agreed to this whole thing. It's a bad idea, Bridge. A bad idea. No-one should be going down there. Not ever. I should call the whole thing off."

"But this is exactly what you must not do," replied Tenenbaum earnestly. "The wolves, they get hungrier every day. They wait for the day you are dead, so they may bite into what they think is the salvage of the century. And if they go down there unaware, if they go without you guiding them...no, this must not be. Now is the time to face this, Jack." She leaned to press her cheek to his head comfortingly. "And I will stay by you."

Jack sighed lightly, but his hand came to lay over the woman's. "Thanks, mom," he said quietly. "That helps."

The phone rang and broke the still moment of peace. With a sigh, Bridgette leaned and lifted the receiver, tucking it under her ear. "Hello?"

"Momma? It's Joany."

Jack watched Tenenbaum's whole face light up. "But, my darling, this is wonderful to hear from you! Obviously you have seen the television report. This is why you are calling."

"Yes, momma. I wanted to talk to Jack. Is he...is he okay?" Joan's voice seemed thin on the line.

Bridgette reached for a pack of cigarettes and tapped one into the crook between two fingers, nodding. "He is fine. Well, we both do not like this attention. You are the only one of the girls to call. You are a good girl, Joany."

Joan sighed. "I doubt Maggie or Masha want anything to do with this. Susie and Betsy, well, I can try to call them, momma..."

"No, my darling," said Bridgette on an exhaled plume of smoke. "They have no need to be dragged through this." Jack watched Tenenbaum's hands flex involuntarily and he saw the old pain come into her eyes. Twenty-one girls, and the state took all but five from them. Two of those five had come to despise their surrogate mother; two more barely kept in contact, though they were close to Joan. Only Joany had braved a real relationship with Brigette. Jack pitied the other four – they had missed out on a great and loving mother.

"I want to come out there," Joan stated firmly. "I don't want you and Jack to be on your own for this. And I...I want to know what happens. It's important."

Bridgette smiled softly. "My brave Joany," she said tenderly. "Yes, of course you may come to us. We would be happy to see you. When can you leave?"

Jack was listening all the while, his eyes still fixed on the desk.

"Now," Joany answered. "I'll get the first flight out."


	2. Chapter 2

Henri Court greeted Jack Ryan with a firm handshake, smiling easily. "I didn't want to complicate matters by arriving in the middle of the press circus," the Frenchman told Ryan with an eloquent shrug. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, no, of course not," replied Jack. "It's better this way, actually – my sister Joany's just arrived, and she wants to hear all about it." He turned and began to walk down the front hall of the estate, inviting Henri to come along with a gesture.

Henri fell into step beside the older man. "Your sister? I thought you wanted utmost discretion – not that I think your family cannot be discreet, but I was unaware you even had a sibling."

"Not by blood," Jack told Court. "My adoptive mother raised six of us. Five girls and me, and I'm the oldest by far. The girls are only in their twenties."

"Fascinating," marveled Court. "Dr. Tenenbaum is quite the woman; everything new I learn of her impresses me more."

Jack grinned slowly. "You don't know the half of it. Come on in." And he pushed the door to the sitting room open. Henri entered and was greeted by the sight of two women. One he had met previously, the handsome and brilliant Dr. Bridgette Tenenbaum. The other was a lovely young woman with soft brown hair and wide, blue eyes. She had a nervous but determined look to her, and Henri had a feeling she had lived her life tenaciously but quietly. Both women rose as he entered.

"Mr. Court," greeted Bridgette, moving to clasp his hand. "It is good to see you again. Please sit; we are having a casual supper here, if you will not be minding."

"It sounds perfect. I'd love a chance to relax." Henri shrugged off his coat with Jack's aid, and then inclined his head toward the young woman. "You must be Joan. It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm Henri, the diver heading your brother's expedition to Rapture."

Joan smiled faintly and nodded in return. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Court. I'm sorry if I seem a little off-kilter. I just arrived today and this whole thing has been something of a shock to me."

"Understandable. Completely understandable," Herni assured as he took a seat and the ladies reclaimed theirs. Jack hung the coat before he, too, settled into a chair. "Jack has not told me everything about the expedition yet, but I know it is a matter of great emotion and anxiety for your family."

"Which is why we've asked you to come tonight, Henri," Jack said, motioning to a trim man who entered bringing a tray of brandied coffees. "I can't let you go down there in good conscience without preparing you for what you might find. As always, I'm asking for the utmost discretion..." he waited for Henri's quick, serious nod before continuing, "...but you need to know as much as I can tell you."

Henri watched Joan out of the corner of his eye. She seemed more tense and uncomfortable than the other two. When the coffee had been served and the houseman had departed, Jack leaned back in his seat, searching for a way to begin. "I am almost certain Rapture is a dead city. There's no possible way anything could have survived, since it's been twenty years and the place was already flooding when I escaped. In fact, I'm going to bet there's been such structural collapse due to the water that the buildings will be mostly rubble."

All three of the family, Henri noticed, were still and grave of expression. Only Joany betrayed the emotion of fear and distress in her eyes. Jack took a moment to collect his thoughts before beginning again. "I can tell you, though, that you are going to find evidence of scientific advances far beyond anything the surface has ever imagined."

"But how...?" Henri began.

It was Tenenbaum that interrupted him. "Andrew Ryan's claim of a society free of all moral and social obligation was a siren song to these scientists whose genius was impeded by their colleagues' sense of right and wrong. Please, you must not misunderstand – I do not believe Ryan was right in anything he did, but it served to bring together men and women of science who, as the saying goes, were like kids in candy shop."

"A sea slug was discovered in the depths," Jack continued, "an animal that could, amazingly, secrete stem-cells that were compatible with human anatomy. At least, they believed they were compatible. The stem cell secretion was then used to create serums called 'plasmids', which gave superhuman abilities to anyone who used them. An investor funded the scientists' research, then marketed the secretion and called it ADAM."

"He sold this secretion of the sea slug? This ADAM?" Henri murmured, trying to take it all in.

"A brilliant move for someone in a city built on free-enterprise and capitalism," said Tenenbaum, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "Rapture was a city of greed. How tempting, then, to citizens of greed, if you can offer them plasmids that can make them stronger, quicker, more unique. Ah, Fontaine knew exactly what he was doing."

"Fonatine. The man who funded and marketed ADAM research and sale?" Henri blinked, shaking his head. "But if this is true, how many slugs did they have to find? That is, how much ADAM could they make from one slug?"

"Not much," admitted Tenenbaum. "Nor could we find more than two dozen sea slugs. The first discovery was complete accident. And this would not do. Not with the market being so giant, and Fontaine wanting a supply to meet demand. We were pressed to find a more controlled and viable means of harvesting ADAM."

Court frowned and straightened in his chair. "Wait, you're saying 'we'. Did you have something to do with all of this, Dr. Tenenbaum?"

Bridgette reached for a cigarette. "Yes. It was I who discovered the sea slug, and I who accepted funding from Fontaine to produce the ADAM." She lit the cigarette and took a slow, delicate pull from the filter. Henri regarded her. It wasn't that she had no guilt over this admission. Something told him the guilt had been confronted a long time ago, and that she had been able to make peace with herself.

"Go on," Henri encouraged. "There were only twenty-four slugs found. So, how did you mass-produce ADAM?"

For the first time, Court saw hesitation in Bridgette's eyes. "You understand, ADAM was delicate. We tried many methods of producing it, but all failed. At last, I discover a way..." The stately woman looked away from Henri. "Understand, I was not the same woman I am now. In Rapture, I had no sense of good and evil. I -..."

Suddenly, Joan rose. "Excuse me," she murmured and then made her way to the door, opening it and exiting without further words. Jack didn't watch her leave, his eyes still on Henri, but Bridgette did. A look of anguish passed over her features.

"If this isn't something you can talk about now..." offered Court gently, but Tenenbaum shook her head.

"No, no. It must be told." She took another slow pull from her cigarette, regaining her impassivity. "I discovered that if we provided a host for the slug, we could produce up to fifty times the amount of Adam and that it was an inexhaustible supply."

"Host?" It was a formality only. Court knew what was coming.

"Human host, yes. When implanted in the lining of a human stomach, the sea slug converted digested food to ADAM. Then, it was simply a matter of inducing regurgitation." Tenenbaum said this stiffly, and Jack looked over at her. Twenty years ago, she would have been explaining this process with such enthusiasm, rather than contrition and unease.

"All right, I think I understand," Henri murmured. "So, ADAM is mass-produced by you, doctor, and marketed to the citizens of Rapture by Fontaine. This is not a bad thing, is it? If it didn't kill or harm the hosts, and if we can bring it to the surface..."

"No!" Jack's reaction was explosive, and Henri tensed. Even at forty-seven, Jack Ryan cut an imposing figure. "No, Henri. You don't understand. Rapture wasn't destroyed by any natural disaster. It was brought down because of the ADAM."

"There were side-effects, Herr Court," Brigette informed him gravely. "Terrible, terrible side-effects. The ADAM was addictive, physically, and the growth and conversion of cells in the human body caused gross disfigurement and insanity."

Henri stared intently at Tenenbaum. "How many Rapture citizens used this ADAM?"

"Nearly everyone," she told him bitterly. "Fontaine was a master marketer and, once Andrew Ryan took over Fontaine Futuristics, he only made it worse. Machines were set up everywhere to offer plasmids, and EVE, the substance used to fuel the plasmids, were available in every corner vending machine."

"Oh, my God," Henri said, aghast. "And that's what happened, isn't it? They went crazy down there, and –"

"The ones driven mad by ADAM slaughtered those who were still sane," Jack finished. "Henri, when I arrived for the first time in Rapture, it was like a battlefield after a war. Corpses everywhere. It was a living Hell. A nightmare made real. There is no possible way we can allow ADAM to ever come to the surface."

Court nodded tightly. "I understand. And you tell me all this not only so I know to not bring any ADAM back, but so I'm prepared for what I might see down there."

Brigette nodded solemnly. "You will see the dead, and you will see just what happens when a society is governed by selfishness and greed."

"Then, if it's so terrible, why are you funding this expedition?" Henri wondered.

Jack looked steadily at the Frenchman. "There are those of us here who need closure. We need to know the past and the dead are buried – metaphorically if not literally."

"Then, there is nothing you wish me to retrieve from Rapture?" Henri sounded incredulous.

Tenenbaum and Ryan exchanged looks, briefly, then shook their heads. "No," Jack said. "Not even so much as a bolt or screw. Just bring back the news that we can finally put this behind us. That's the most precious salvage there could be."

~*~

Bridgette entered the bedroom and smiled at seeing Joan nestled under the covers. "It is good, being in your old room, darling?" she asked, moving to sit on the stool that was in front of a little, gilded vanity.

Joan nodded, smiling wanly. "I keep forgetting how much better I feel when I'm home," she admitted. "Mom, did you tell Henri Court about me?"

"No, _liebchen_, I did not. That is for you to tell or not tell as you wish."

Joan was quiet for a time, regarding the woman who had raised her. "Why me?"

Tenenbaum blinked, and shook her head. "I do not understand."

"Why was I one of them? There were...what? Twenty or so of us, but there had to be more little girls than that in Rapture. How did we get chosen? How did _I_ get chosen?" Joan was grave, pressing, dauntless.

"You weren't chosen," Tenenbaum told her, matching that fearlessness with candidness. "Your mother gave you to us willingly." She saw the look of shock and pain on her daughter's face and winced, but didn't stop. "She came to Rapture after your father died. She was very young, and worked in Fort Frolic as one of Sander Cohen's chorus girls. Fontaine arranged that she should have the lead in one of Cohen's shows in exchange for you."

Joan shifted, pushing herself up to sitting. "My mother _sold_ me for a part in a _show_?" There wasn't enough outrage and horror in the world to convey her words adequately.

Bridgette leaned to lay a hand on Joan's shoulder. "We told your mother that she was doing a great thing. At that time, the orphanage was not as successful as it should have been, so Fontaine was using propaganda to take girls away from their parents. We told your mother you would be the salvation of the city. I am not saying she is blameless – anyone with sense of rabbit would see there was something dirty there...but we made it easier for her to delude her own self."

"What happened to her?" Joan's voice was ridged with hurt and steely resolve.

Bridgette shrugged in that habitual, eloquent way of hers. "Who can tell? We did not keep in contact with her. I know she was splicing – using ADAM and plasmids all the time – so it is likely she went mad and eventually died."

Joan looked away from her adoptive mother. "Good," she bit. "I'm glad she's dead."

Bridgette watched the young woman and sighed, softly. "If that is what is necessary, then go and rejoice in her death. But I was no less terrible to you, my Joany, and yet you've forgiven me. The only difference between your mother and I is that I was afforded opportunity to make amends."

Bridgette rose, then leaned to press a kiss to the young woman's forehead. "Now, sleep. I love you; Jack loves you, and the past owes us nothing." Joan nodded and Tenenbaum smiled once more, reassuringly, before turning off the nightstand light and exiting the room.

~*~

In the early grey of morning, Jack stood on the docks of Chatham's Harwich Port, looking stoically out toward Henri Court's ship, the _Mistral_. Court had arrived well before dawn to oversee loading the equipment and supplies for which Jack had paid almost half a million dollars. Now, the pier was bustling with news crew, eager reporters spouting drivel about the historic significance of this monumental event. Jack had shoo'ed them away and now listened to the babble with more than a degree of bitterness. Those reporters, he knew, were just _aching_ for Henri to find something that would unravel the mystery of Rapture. They thought it was a modern Atlantis. They had no idea of the death, greed and misery that sat so fat and ominous under those white-capped waves. Jack felt himself tense involuntarily, then turned to open the limousine door.

Sleek and cool, Bridgette exited and lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the rising sun. The limo's driver tendered her a pair of sunglasses, and she donned them with a smooth gesture. "Quite the circus," was her first comment. When Jack didn't reply, she looked over at him, inquiringly. "They will be wanting you to say something," she reminded, softly.

"I know. I don't know what to tell them." Jack's eyes were still on the _Mistral_.

"Lie," Tenenbaum replied flatly and without remorse. "Say something nice about your dead father and his city of the damned and we'll get back in the car and go home."

Jack allowed himself a small smile. "You're a cold lady, mom," he noted.

She ignored that, and instead laid a hand on his arm. "Do you want me to address them?" she asked, trying to help.

"No," Jack sighed. "Just take care of Joan."

And, as if on cue, the young woman rose out of the black car and moved immediately to take Bridgette's hand. "So many people," she murmured. "I didn't think there'd be so many."

"People flock to mystery," Tenenbaum replied. "They also believe Court is going to find hordes of treasure there in the deep." She chuckled low. "These people – Andrew Ryan would have liked their optimism, yes?"

Joan was about to answer when Henri came striding over. He was immaculately dressed in a white turtleneck and a crisp pair of khaki pants, looking very much the seasoned, sophisticated captain. "They're ready for you, Jack," he invited, "and the _Mistral_ is ready to make way."

Jack nodded and started for the pier, where a dais had been erected and festooned with banners touting the expedition. Joan and Bridgette followed, both as grim-faced as the gentleman in front of them. With a bare pause, Jack mounted the platform and stood behind the mahogany podium laden with microphones. Only his adoptive mother and sister saw the shadows in his eyes as he addressed the crowd.

"It is with profound solemnity I bid fair voyage to Captain Henri Court and the crew of the _Mistral_. I am honored to have such a fine team venturing down into the world my father built. It was Andrew Ryan's intention that Rapture would be a city for the ages, and with Captain Court's brave efforts, I can give my late father the promise that his metropolis will not soon be forgotten. He gave us an opportunity to exist in a place governed by our own indomitable will, and he shared with us a dream that resonated with thousands. Today, we elevate that dream to a hallowed place in our memories. Captain Court," and he nodded toward Henri. "May you go with God, and return safely."

Thunderous applause erupted, and Jack turned his back on it, descending the dais. A flock of reporters began to move in, but the security staff hired for the occasion worked them back and away. "Thank God that's over," Jack muttered darkly. 

"Henri, we _do_ wish you the safest of journeys," Bridgette intoned. "And our prayers, they _will_ be with you."

Henri smiled softly. "I thank you for that sentiment, madame," he said graciously. Then, slowly, he turned and faced Joan. "It's time," he said.

Joan nodded.

Jack and Bridgette both blinked and looked between the captain and the young woman. "What's going on?" Jack asked, confused.

Joan took a slow breath. "Jack, I called Henri this morning and he agreed to let me be a part of the expedition. I'm going to Rapture with them."

"What?!" It was Tenenbaum who burst out the word, not Jack. "No! No, Joany, you cannot do such a thing!"

"Joan, listen to mom," Jack urged, also clearly shaken. "You...you don't have the memories we do. You were so young that you probably don't remember Rapture as it really was. We do. We know what it's like down there."

"I remember more than you think," Joan replied evenly. "I remember enough to know that I _have_ to go back. I have to see that place as an adult, and understand what happened and how I was a part of it all. I have to be able to work it out as a grown-up, or else...the nightmares and the questions and the fear won't ever stop."

"Oh, my darling, my _liebchen_, I cannot bear the thought of you down there alone," Bridgette whimpered, already in tears.

"She won't be. We're going to go with her," Jack declared firmly.


	3. Chapter 3

The _Mistral_ was gleaming and sleek, a state-of-the-art science vessel that was well-suited to its task. There were two four-man submersibles, named the _Demeter _and the _Persephone_. Joan, Jack and Bridgette were given comfortable, if small, cabins. As the ship made its way to the middle of the Atlantic, Henri invited his guests to a briefing in one of the conference rooms aboard. With Court, there were four other crew who would make up the dive-team. Two were Frenchmen, like Henri, the other two were Russian and American.

"We don't have blueprints or maps of the city," Court explained to the group, "but the tower that hosted the original bathyspheres is still standing, so we'll use that as reference. It shouldn't be too difficult to come up on the city from enough distance to allow for a scan of the area. We'll send the _Persephone _down first with myself, Milos, Paul and Jack. The _Demeter_ will follow with Jean, Joan, Bridgette and Seth."

"I want to go down with the first crew," Joan said quietly.

"Joan…" Jack began, but when he saw his sister's expression, he just sighed and nodded. "She can take my place. I'll come down on the second sub."

Henri didn't argue. "All right. Once we've found a safe place to touch down, I'll radio back and you can join us." He glanced between the group's faces. "You all know that there is every chance that we will see very unpleasant things. If any of you feel this is going to be too much for you, I need to know. Now."

No one spoke. Court straightened. "All right," he said, rising from his chair. "We'll be in position tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. Be ready."

~*~

Joan was up at sunrise, sipping from a cup of very hot, very bland coffee and watching the horizon when she fist caught sight of the tower.

Her first reaction was surprising – she was overwhelmed at how beautiful it was. The architecture was a marvel and the edifice itself was grand, imposing and ornate. She had thought it would look menacing and evil. Instead, she found it eerily inviting.

"He knew what he was doing," said a voice quietly behind her. She glanced over a shoulder and watched Jack come to stand beside her at the railing, his own gaze focused on the spire.

"It's incredible," Joan murmured. "I mean…this one part of it, this bathysphere port…it's so impressive and elegant. How much could this have cost Andrew Ryan?"

"It wasn't an issue for him, Joany. Money, logic, none of that matters to a man building a dream," Jack replied. "More and more, I understand that he had a vision in his mind and he wouldn't compromise or stray one iota from it. I get the feeling he had imagined even the way the individual rivets of the girders would look, and he made them that way." Jack paused before speaking again. "I suppose that's why it always feels like I'm looking at _him_. Walking through his mind."

Joany shivered, but made no comment. The silence held for a little while before Jack finally turned to her. "Don't go down there, honey. Don't. It's a bad place with so much misery. I wish I could explain it to you." His expression contorted slightly. "There's nothing more horrific than a failed dream, Joany. Nothing. Stay here on the ship and I'll go and tell you what happened."

"I can't, Jack. I'm sorry." That was all she said, before touching his arm and walking away. Jack watched her and closed his eyes slowly.

~*~

Two hours later, the ship was a flurry of activity, the crew preparing to launch the submersibles. Joan had been given instructions on the procedures and was now waiting to climb into the _Persephone_. Jack and Bridgette stood close by, the latter smoking nervously. When it came time for Joan to board the small sub, Tenenbaum stepped forward and clasped her daughter to her tightly. "Be careful. Be smart. You are my good girl and I will see you soon," she promised, kissing Joan tenderly on the cheek. Joan gave Bridgette a fierce squeeze, then moved to embrace Jack as well.

"For better or worse, Joan, Rapture was just as much yours as it was anyone's. Remember that, and don't let it shove you around," he murmured. Joan nodded and disengaged herself from his arms, moving to the _Persephone_ and carefully climbing into its belly. After her came Milos and Paul. Finally, Henri himself reached to climb up and in. He paused to look at Bridgette and Jack. "She will be safe," he promised gravely. The pair nodded, and Henri disappeared inside the sub, closing the hatch after him.

Joan felt the sub descending, and she stared out the small porthole, amazed at how quickly the water grew dark. She was silent, letting the three men run their instruments and carefully pilot the small vessel down into the depths.

"I have it on sonar," Milos declared quietly. "Veer left, about…thirty degrees."

Joan felt herself tensing. She wondered if she'd be able to recognize anything from the rubble…if anything would spark a memory.

"What's that?" Paul voiced.

"It's…I think it's light," Henri replied in a stunned murmur. "Light from under us."

Joan felt herself go cold.

"Oh, my God," breathed Court. "It's here."

And it was. Not rubble at all. Not ruins. No. To be sure, buildings had flooded and fallen, rotten and crumbled, but only a few. Here, still, was the city itself, illuminated and alive. Preserved. Joan saw the neon signs touting Fort Frolic and Fontaine Futuristics. She pressed herself against the glass, staring wildly at the sight, stunned and disbelieving.

"It has power," Paul said, his voice filled with wonder. "It's still got _power_, for Christ's sake."

"We have to tell Jack," Joan whispered. There was no response from the crew. She pulled back and looked over at the three men. "Get on the radio. You have to tell Jack. We need….we need to go back up."

The three men just regarded her without expression. Joan's own shifted from urgency, to confusion and, finally, to dawning realization. "You bastard," she choked softly at Henri.

"I understand your misgivings, mademoiselle," Court told her politely. "But they are, to me, unfounded. This is an unexpected development, but not an unanticipated one. And with it comes a new obligation on my part as an explorer and scientist. It would be remiss of me, even unethical, to allow such a discovery to go uninvestigated. After all, there may be survivors in the city."

"Jack told you what those survivors are like," Joan said furiously. "They're crazy and dangerous. How can you _do_ this? You'd put our lives at risk just to explore Rapture? Didn't you _listen_ to what my mother said? The place is a death-trap! The people -…"

"I would like to verify for myself the condition of the city," Henri replied tonelessly.

"Like hell," retorted Joan. "You smug little weasel – you want to get your hands on some ADAM."

"A fair compensation for risking my life and the life of my crew, wouldn't you think?" Court asked. "Now, mademoiselle, I must ask you to be silent. Further distractions will make our final descent more risky than I think you would like."

Joan leaned back, dazed and frightened. She watched the three men guide the _Persephone_ into the city, searching for an empty bathysphere dock. Once or twice she eyed the radio console, but knew they'd be on her long before she could warn Jack and her mother.

Finally, the sub glided into a hatch, which automatically locked behind them and drained of seawater. Joan peered again through the porthole, unable to stop trembling. Carefully, Henri and the two crewmen opened the top of the sub. Paul went first, Milos after. Court looked over at Joan and motioned that she was to exit next. Mutely, white-faced, she did as bidden, easing herself up and out of the _Persephone_. As she climbed down the small, curving side-ladder, she looked at her surroundings.

_My God, I know this place_, she thought in horror. It was near Neptune's Bounty. She remembered walking here, walking alone in the darkness.

No. Not alone…

"Move," Paul said brusquely. Joan came out of her reverie and took a few steps forward. Henri came behind her, regarding the area with a critical eye.

"Amazing," he said. "Simply amazing. Twenty years and it still stands. Look," he declared, moving over to the nearest wall. "Advertising for…what? A theater? Incredible."

The group began to walk. They made their way through the dock and to the actual wharf itself. Joan was silent, but every moment that passed and every step they took increased her dread, until finally she couldn't help but speak.

"Henri, listen to me," Joan pleaded. "You have to listen. There's no way this city could have survived if everyone was dead. The place was falling apart when we left. I remember the flooding, and Jack told us that it Hephaestus was on its way to exploding. If this place is still here, it means someone's alive. Enough people alive still to repair things, to - …"

"I think that is enough from you, mademoiselle," Court decided. "It will be difficult to give news of your death to the Doctor and Monsieur Ryan, but they both knew there were certain risks involved."

He motioned slightly to Paul and Milos. Nodding, the two men started toward Joan. She took a stumbling step back and then _screamed_.

Almost immediately, a distant, groaning bellow answered the cry.

The three men froze. Joan was shaking violently, but she too held still. Henri frowned slightly, his attention leaving the young woman and focusing instead on the last echoes of the noise. "What was that?" he wondered aloud.

Before his crew could offer theories, the ground beneath their feet trembled faintly. A moment later, all four perceived a slight glow illuminating a doorway a hundred meters or so to their left. It was red.

"Holy shit," clipped Paul. "_Run_!"

But it was too late.

The thing stormed out of the doorway and barreled toward them. It was hulking, huge, humanoid in shape but dressed in some sort of bizarre diving suit. Its helmet bore metal grating and the red glow was its huge, round face-window. One arm had been replaced by an enormous drill. The thing was monstrous. And it was angry.

Joan watched as the three men tired to escape. The creature was surprisingly swift, and bore down on them easily. Henri was hoisted into the air and thrown forty feet to crash into a wall, tumbling down and not moving again. Milos was grappled and Joan heard him screaming madly as the monster tore into him, tearing at flailing limbs. Slamming Milos into the ground over and over until his was silent, the brute then charged Paul. With a shrill whirring noise, the drill came to life and tunneled through the man's stomach.

Joan screamed again and dragged herself quickly into the darkness and used the distraction to hide behind a stack of half-rotted boxes. She could hear Paul's rattling gurgles as he died, and she bit her lip hard to keep from screaming again. There was a thud as Paul's body was dropped and, for a moment, silence came over the wharf.

Then she heard the heavy fall of the thing's diving boots. It was coming toward her. She whimpered in terror and pressed her back hard against the damp wall. Her eyes were fixed on the crates that kept her hidden from its view. He felt the ground shaking, and then the crates were knocked aside and she was staring directly up at it. She screamed again.

The creature started, as if surprised. She actually saw it jolt. It swiveled its head from left to right, looking around, and then focused back on her. Then, slowly, it leaned over and reached out the non-drill hand toward her.

Joan's breath came shallow as she stared up at it. Suddenly, she was drowning in memories. She had been here before, crouched and frightened, and this thing had come as it came now, to reach for her. And, like before, she found herself taking his hand and letting him draw her to her feet. For a long time, she just stood there. Then, tentatively, her hands reached out and began to dance softly over the contours of that enormous diving helmet. The creature not only permitted this, but seemed almost overjoyed for it to be occurring. "I know you," Joan whispered. "I do. I…remember. You were with me, down here. When I was walking…." Another flash. "When I was harvesting ADAM from the dead. You were with me."

The thing gave a low, keening sound. Joan's breath caught. "Oh, God," she whimpered. "Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Bubbles…" And she threw her arms around the thing's great neck. "You saved my life," she sobbed.

With both tenderness and a sort of dutiful professionalism, the Big Daddy picked her up. He tried to tuck her neatly into the crook of his arm but she had grown quite a bit, and the effort was made somewhat awkward. She found herself chuckling bleakly as the poor thing shifted her this way and that, and finally settled on just using both arms. Her hands hooked into the grating of his helmet and held tight. For a moment, Joany simply savored the feeling of reliving the only comforting memory she had of this place. However, she soon collected herself and peered up at him. "Mr. B, we need to go back to the bathysphere station. I need to radio the surface so they can come get us."

Without a sound, the Big Daddy wheeled about-face and started in the direction of the dock. Joan kept hold of him, trying to figure out how she'd warn her mother and Jack that Henri's men were dangerous. Suddenly, she gasped. "Oh, no."

The Big Daddy stopped, and Joany stared at the place where Henri had been flung. A place that was now empty. "He's alive," she breathed. "Oh, God." Her face peered frantically into the creature's helmet. "We have to get to the dock. Fast!"


	4. Chapter 4

"_ADAM improved every aspect of man, except his character. Perhaps there is a plasmid that can grow the spirit. Perhaps in your DNA this secret lies." _– Bridgette Tenenbaum, BioShock

~*~

The _Persephone_ was gone.

"He took it. He took it," Joan moaned softly. "God _damn_ it."

The Big Daddy grunted, an echo of her cursing.

Joan slid down out of the behemoth's arms and peered into the bathysphere station, frowning in consternation. "All right. So, the sub's gone. Fine." She straightened and eyed her companion. "Mr. B, we need a radio. I've got to warn Momma and Jack. Do you know where we can find a radio?"

The Daddy was still for a long moment, looking down at her. At last, though, he turned and galumphed toward a wide, tall window. Joan followed, puzzled. When the Big Daddy halted, it lifted a ham-fisted arm and pointed out at the ocean.

"What is it?" Joan asked, drawing up to stand beside him. Her eyes followed the path of his point and, suddenly, her expression brightened. A neon sign shone from the side of a large building. _KNO Radio_. "Mr. B, you're brilliant!" Joan exclaimed. "Can we get over there?"

In answer, the giant divesuit reached down to take her up in his hold. Joan shook her head. "Mr. B, I can walk. We'll get there faster. Now, which way?"

Obligingly, the creature pivoted to the left and began to thump toward a bulkhead that would lead them from Neptune's Bounty to Arcadia. With ease, he dragged open the bulkhead's door and, with unfailing courtesy, waited for Joan to walk through before he did likewise. She patted his arm absently and fondly as she stepped over the metal lip of the doorframe.

Sealing the door behind him, the Big Daddy worked open the second, and Joan took in a soft breath of wonder as she walked into the lush entrance of Arcadia. "I remember this," she whispered. But it had not been so manicured, the last time she'd seen it. It had been wild then, the Saturnines sowing chaotic growth. Now, it was clean and the grass was clipped. The trees were pruned. The flowers bloomed brightly against the dim, amber shadows of the greenhouse that lay so far beneath the surface.

"Splicers couldn't have done this," Joany said quietly, walking to a rose bush and fingering a bloom carefully. "They couldn't have made it this beautiful."

Suddenly, the Big Daddy began to make a low keening sound. Joan turned her head, regarding him. "What is it?" she asked. The sound upped in volume and pitch. He was agitated, and getting moreso by the second. Joan moved back to him quickly. "What?" she asked again. The creature began to convulse, the movements jerky, as though he were trying to jump. "Mr. Bubbles! Mr. B!" Joan cried, confusion making her grab hold of her guardian to try and steady him.

"Oi! You!"

The voice came from above. Joan snapped her gaze up just in time to see a figure leap from a shadowed, wooden staircase. With a gasp, she clung to the Big Daddy. The figure landed almost on top of them.

"Splicer!" Joan whispered in terror.

~*~

"No contact for almost two hours," Jack said quietly. "What the Hell is going on down there?"

Tenenbaum did not reply, but her face was white. Jack regarded her and his heart ached. This was her worst nightmare come true. Losing a child to sickness, a car accident, that would have undone her…but losing her favorite child to Rapture was going to kill her. Why, _why_ had he agreed to let Joany go down there?

"I'm going to tell those men to get the other sub ready, Mom," he said firmly. "I'm going to go down there and get her."

Jack rose and moved to leave the cabin. As he opened the door, he came face to face with one of the crew. The burly man eyed Jack without expression. "I'm afraid you're confined to your cabin, Mr. Ryan, until further notice."

Jack frowned, his eyes narrowing. "Why?"

"Mr. Court's had some unexpected circumstances, and he's asked that you remain here for your own safety."

"Get out of my way." Jack's voice was quiet.

"I'm afraid I can't-.."

But Jack shoved at the man. The fellow staggered back, recovered, and answered by charging Jack himself. The crewman barreled into Jack with a grunt and the pair fell to the floor. Jack reached to try and grapple his assailant, but the man was superior in youth, size and strength. Jack felt hands closing around his throat.

A crack of sound burst through the small cabin and the man's weight fell heavily onto Jack. With a wrenching pull, he dragged himself free of the body, and stared in amazement at the blood pouring from the fellow's temple.

Astonished, Jack looked up at his mother, who stood calmly with one slender hand gripping a pistol expertly.

"Jesus," Jack wheezed, getting himself to his feet. "Where did you get _that_ thing?"

"I always carry it in my handbag," Tenenbaum replied. "Habit, from the old days."

Jack stared at his mother a moment, and then just shook his head, chuckling. "You're a wild old lady," he said admiringly.

"Let us go for rounding up the others, secure them somewhere, and try to find out what's going on," Bridgette said.

Jack nodded, and led the way out of the cabin.

~*~

"Get away from him!"

Joan's cry was wild, desperate. Her hands reached for the figure, trying to shove him, knock him back.

"Th' Hell I will!" came the reply. It was a man, an angry one at that, his own arms reaching past the Big Daddy to try and grab at her.

Joan ducked to the left, grasping the back of the Daddy's suit. "Get him, Mr. B! Get him!"

The creature turned his great head slowly to peer down at her, silently. Joan looked at him, and realized that he wasn't attacking, had no intention of attacking, and seemed to be determined to play interference between herself and the man that was still struggling to get to her.

"He's dangerous, Mr. Bubbles!" she implored, shifting to avoid a swiping hand. "Splicers are dangerous!" She remembered _that_ much.

"I'm not th' bloody splicer. _You_ are!" came a heated retort from the man.

"I'm not a splicer!" Joan bit furiously. The man snatched, and caught hold of her sleeve. "Anngh! Let go!"

Calmly, patiently, the Big Daddy reached and wedge the pair apart with giant hands. Both stared at one another, breathless. Now that the struggle had ceased, Joan got her first real look at the fellow. "You're _not_," she said, wonderingly. "You're _not_ a splicer." She remembered what they had looked like: masked, deformed, mutated. This man…

The Big Daddy lowered his arms, and the pair settled, the man coming around to scrutinize her over carefully. "You're not, either," he said, marveling. "Look at you. But if you're not a splicer…"

"I'm Joan," she offered, candidly. "And I need to get to KNO Radio."

"Joan," he echoed. "Right. Well, I'll bring you over there. Sorry about earlier – the splicers are getting so desperate, they're attacking the Big Daddies now for their dive-suits. Lets them go outside to look for floaters that might have some ADAM still in 'em. Far as I can tell, Rosie here's the last of the lot."

"Oh, God," Joan said, aghast.

The man nodded and started walking through Arcadia, toward the bulkhead that would get them over to KNO. "It's not far," he said as Joan and the Daddy followed after him. "I admit to being more than a little confused, though. I've never seen this big lug take to anyone like this before – it took me months to get him to trust me." He paused and looked over his shoulder. "Would you kindly explain what you're doing here?"

~*~

"That's that," Jake said, coming onto the bridge and closing the door behind him. "They're secure in the galley. None of them would tell me what Henri's up to, though." He looked at the radio, than at Tenenbaum. "Any luck?"

Bridgette shook her head slowly. "Nothing. I am trying on all frequencies. If Court can hear, he does not respond. And Joany…" She couldn't finish the thought or the sentence.

Jack went and gently took the radio transmitter out of her hand. He depressed the button, speaking into the unit. "This is Jack Ryan aboard the _Mistral_. Mr. Court? Joan? Can you hear me?"

Silence.

"Keep trying, Jack," Bridgette pleaded. "Keep trying."

"This is Jack Ryan. This is the _Mistral_, calling Mr. Henri Court or Joan Tenenbaum. Do you read? Over."

Bridgette closed her eyes and bowed her head.

It was an hour later when they heard the faint crackle from the speaker. Tenenbaum started and looked over at her son. "Jack…" she breathed.

Instantly, Jack took up the transmitter. "Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

"…Jack?"

"Joan!" Jack almost screamed the word. "Joany, honey! Oh, God. Thank God."

"Jack, I'm okay," the voice said, faint but distinct. Bridgette shivered a little, listening to her daughter, hearing that voice that was safe…but so many fathoms away. "I'm okay."

"What happened?" Jack slid his chair closer to the speaker and Tenenbaum leaned forward.

"Court. Court lost his mind," Joan replied. "He saw lights on down here and decided to make a grab for some ADAM to take to the surface. He was going to have his men kill me, but…I ran into an old friend and his mining drill, and things got handled."

Bridgette smiled wanly. "I am glad to hear that there is at least something down there to keep you safe, my darling."

"Not just Mr. B, momma," Joan continued. "I met someone else. He's been a big help."

"Who, baby?" Jack asked.

"Atlas. His name's Atlas."

The panic that hit Jack was like a tsunami. His hands gripped the transmitter so hard, it almost cracked inside the grasp. "Joan! Joan, get away from him! You have to run. _NOW!_"

"What? Jack, I don't…" Joan's voice was bewildered, surprised.

"Get away! Get away from him! Do you hear me? Joan! Get away-…"

Bridgette Tenenbaum's hand moved forward, fingertips grazing the radio's buttons. The radio shut off with a soft 'click'.

"Joan?!" Jack's voice was ragged, near-crazed. He whipped his gaze to Bridgette. "What are you doing?! Are you crazy?"

"Jack," Tenenbaum intoned gently, tenderly. "She is all right. She will be all right."

"But Fontaine! It's Fontaine!" His mind was reeling. "We have to get her away from him!"

"Frank Fontaine is dead, Jack," Bridgette told him softly. "You know this."

"Then who…Atlas…." Jack slumped back, shaken, hysterical.

"Atlas is my son." Bridgette reached into her handbag to take a cigarette from a silver case. "My son with Frank Fontaine. 

"What?" Jack's voice was cracked, dry.

"You were the first subject of the accelerated development experiment conducted by myself and Dr. Suchong. Atlas was the second." She set the cigarette between her lips, lit it, and took a slow pull from its filtered end before speaking again. "I had become pregnant by Fontaine three months before you killed him. He did not know. I told no-one. When you left Rapture with the girls, I stayed behind and had our son."

"That's…that's why you refused to come to the surface with us," Jack said, astonished.

Bridgette nodded. "I was alone. I had the child. I used the same techniques we had used on you, with some crucial modifications, including adjusting his genetic structure and combining it with yours. Within six months, he was developing five times as rapidly as you had, mentally. Within a year, he was a perfect boy of twelve years."

Jack swallowed. "What happened? Mom, why did you leave him?"

"He died," Tenebaum said simply. "He died, and there was not power enough to reactivate the VitaChambers. I tried. I tried very hard to get enough power from Hephaestus. In the end, there was nothing I could do. So, I buried him in Arcadia and came to join you here on the surface."

Jack stared at his adoptive mother. She had never said a word to him. She had borne a child, lost him, buried him and left him, and she had never revealed the sadness and agony that now etched itself across her features. "Mom…" he began.

Her eyes were bright. "I named him Atlas, after the hero in which Rapture had so naively believed, and who my other son had trusted. I wanted Atlas to be real. I wanted this man to exist, not to 'con' as Faontaine called it, but to inspire and lead. I had hoped for so much."

She closed her eyes, stubbing the cigarette out on the side of the bridge's control panel. "And so, the power has come back to Rapture, Joan says. The VitaChambers are online, and they read your DNA inside Atlas and bring him back from the dead. When? I do not know. But he is there and he will take care of our beloved Joan. This I know."


End file.
